Maggie's Farm

John Wesley (1703-1791), founder of what we now call Methodism (the term was originally used as an insult but was eventually adopted by Wesley), and his brother Charles spent some time in Savannah, GA. I lost a bet about that at a dinner party last year, which cost me a bottle of good Montrachet.

Methodism was the ultimate source of our 12-step programs: the Wesleyans liked to have methods for spiritual discipline. John Wesley was an evangelist, and liked to preach outdoors. He tried to convert the Georgia Indians.

He was a "by faith alone" preacher.

He got in a bit of a problem with a Georgia lady, and eventually returned to England. Here's a piece on Wesley in Georgia, and here's a Wesley bio.

The hymns written by John and Charles Welsey are among my favorites. Charles wrote 6000 hymns. John even produced a hymnal but, as this site notes,

Today people are much more familiar with some of Charles Wesley's hymns than with John Wesley's sermons.

Image of John Wesley above, Charles Wesley below:

Good online radio, from the Ivy League: WKCR. On Saturday they had a Howlin' Wolf festival which blew my mind. And right after, I went to hear Nozze di Figaro.

How much amazing music can a brain process in one day?

Thanks to our friend Marianne for reminding us of this critically important day of National Awareness and Action.

Make sure you get out there and abuse at least one of those "elders" today. More, if you can find them. If they have any grey hair, go for it. Do not beat anybody under 30, as they used to say.

If you happen to be an elder, whatever that is (related to Elderberry?), then abuse yourself in your way of choice.

I have planned my day to find a crew of those elders in line for the Early Bird Special at my local Long John Silver's. It's right next to Red Lobster, so we'll have a chance to abuse quite a few seafood-eaters.

I hate to do it, but it's for America. And, let's admit it: sado-masochism is exciting.

Walked past the Joyce the other evening. $10 sounds good. Mrs. BD was trying to remember how many times she has seen Appalachian Spring.

I remember when old Martha herself would wobble out to the stage at the end of the performances.

A re-post -

The Greeks colonized Poseidonia - now Paestum - on the south-west coast of Italy (90 miles south of Napoli) around 650 BC. Poseidonia became the Roman city Paestum in 273 BC.

Paestum contains the finest complex of Greek temples in the world, which was discovered in 1762 by a road crew. They were built before the Parthenon was completed in the 400s (BC).

The modern town of Paestum is a seaside resort, but the reason to go there is to see the Greek temples outside of town. Our Dylanologist did just that (and brought me back a Paestum t-shirt!).

The splendid, if heavy-looking, Doric temple in this photo is known as The Temple of Hera ll.

Here's a photo of the 450 BC Temple of Hera l, later rededicated to Neptune. More info on the Hera l temple here.

Here's a photo bank of the contents of the Paestum Archaeological Museum.

A bit of commentary from the Great Buildings Online website:

When the ruins of Paestum were 'rediscovered' by 'antiquaries'�chiefly Johann Joachim Winckelmann�in the 1750s, "the ruins [were] then made widely known, and an enthusiastic appreciation of Greek art and architecture was also sparked...Because of Paestum, the Classic Revival was born with Greece, not Rome, ascendant."

� Deborah Fritz from G. E. Kidder Smith. Looking at Architecture. p16.

The three Paestum temples are all in the Archaic Doric style of heavy columns with capitals that are squat, or as Goethe termed them, 'oppressive.' By the time the Parthenon was finished (438 B.C.), columns were elegantly slender, capitals had an alert, load-bearing profile, and refinement attended every detail. Moreover, they were carved from Parian marble; Paestum's now crudely exposed shellstone shafts, it is only fair to say, were originally covered with lime stucco. As in Greece proper, the temples at Paestum face easterly so that the rising sun will awaken the statue within."

� G. E. Kidder Smith. Looking at Architecture. p16.

I wrote earlier today that Mozart had a negative feeling towards Roman Catholicism. I don't know where I read that. He certainly was a Freemason, and at least impatient with Catholic requirements, but never formally left the RC Church.

By coincidence, today Potemra has a post about Merton, Barth, and Mozart. A quote:

Merton and Barth were both wrestling with what it meant to be created in God’s image, and — as in the famous passage, Matthew 18:3 — saw that image most clearly in human beings who could express childlike joy.

Since I am specializing today in posting statements which I cannot source, I may as well mention that I once read that Barth said that this song summed up all anybody needed to know about Christian faith.

Story here.

Photo of Dr. Bob's grave in Akron, from the story.

We finished up yesterday with a performance of Figaro by the Chelsea Opera in their usual space, St. Peter's Episcopal Church on W. 20th St. Just wonderful to be so close up to the sorts of remarkable singers small opera companies can get in NYC. I have decided that I prefer this sort of thing to the Met or the New York City Opera - and it is not just the price.

Lorenzo da Ponte was the librettist for Le Nozze di Figaro, Don Giovanni and Così fan tutte. A Jewish convert to Catholicism, it is said that he hated the RC Church as much as Mozart did, but I am not certain of that from a Mozart who said “Protestantism was all in the head.” Da Ponte was a priest for a while, and a famous scoundrel, debtor, womanizer, and MILF-predator.

Another cool factoid: St. Peter's was built in 1836 on farm land donated by Clement Moore who became Warden and organist for the church. The Moore family had a good-sized estate there, which was named "Chelsea." Moore also donated the land on which General Theological Seminary still stands, a few blocks away. St. Peter's is a fine old church but a bit down at the heels:

Our friend Gregory (aka Sippican) is doing just that: Quiet, Numskulls, I'm Broadcastin'

From our friend Nathan in the future JerusaLand:

Business Flash.

Dateline: The City formerly known as Jerusalem

In a shocking market coup, former Disney CEO, Michael Eisner, has been awarded the 99-year lease for Jerusalem, outbidding Jews and Palestinians.

“I am delighted, like I am in heaven, almost,” Eisner elated. “We pulled an all-nighter, God’s team and ours, but came out with the best deal for Him, a lucrative, exclusive contract for Disney, and Family Fun For All.”

God’s representative, C.O.A (Chief Operating Angel) Gabriel Raphael, added, “That Michael. Eisner has the first name of an archangel had no bearings on the negotiations: the deal was struck on its merits: the best price for God and a history of Disney’s fine management.  Our C.E.O, whose name we do not use in vain, has had concern about management of this city, since Kollek was retired.  We had handsome offers from the Vatican, Dubai, and Jimmy Carter, but our CEO is not in this for the money and we were searching for a manager and corporation with a reputation for excellent, consistent customer service.  Based on market research, we have counted more smiles and a child-friendlier atmosphere at Disney than at churches, mosques and synagogues, or at Carter’s lectures.”  God was not available for comment and messages were not returned. 

Eisner effused, “After an international naming contest on Inter-American Idols, we are renaming the city, “JerusaLand,” City on the Hill, Fun-Town for All.  Runners up were “Jewro-Disney” and “Mickey’s Heaven.”

“This is a new era for JerusaLand,” Eisner ebullianated.  Since there are already only two entrances to the city, there will be entrance fees covering all events within, with VIP packages additional.  No money will be used by tourists: everyone can buy Holy-Gelt chips, like Club Med, but without the Mediterranean nor sand.  Everyone living in the city will be employees of JerusaLand Corp., International.  We are professionalizing the beggars,” he continuated. “Everyone now begging, will be an employee of JerusaLand, and will be uniformed in historically authentic beggars’ tatters from the various eras. You can give Holy-Gelt chips to a beggar from Jebusite, or King David’s era, or Roman right up to the present, knowing that each beggar will turn in his chips at the end of the workday for a salary and benefits. We will have an incentive system for all employees, including beggars, with vacations to EuroDisney or Disney World.  Beggars will be promoted based on performance, with areas near the Western Wall as prime.”  Eisner notated that any Beggar-employees caught praying at the Western Wall, then requesting charity from others for their prayers, will be restationed by the Dung Gate.  “Prayer will be free, no charge, in JeruseLand!  This, the Big Guy insisted on.” Eisner enunciated.

“You will notice,” Eisner persisticated, “that we have renamed this the Western Wall: wailing is not permitted.  Other activities, such as shuckling, dancing, spinning and bobbing are encouraged. We will have rides, including a praying roller coaster that while not the highest ever built, will be the holiest: imagine getting closer to God while looping the loop on the holiest mount.”

“And if that isn’t close enough to God,” Eisner emphasated, “We have an introductory package that includes DirectLine.  For only fifty cents a minute children can use the Red Phone to talk with God!” When asked about the very reasonable price, Eisner pointed out that this was a local call.  “God has specified that he will only talk with children, as they seem to hear what he says better.”  (This reporter was able to use the service and can ascertain that God speaks with a Viennese accent, and responds with “Uh, huh.” Yesss,” and “Vat do you make of zet?”)  Videophone service – called MosesPhone -- for those reclined, is planned in the future.

“We have specialty packages, for instance for Cohens.  Since they can’t mount the Mount until the Temple is rebuilt, we have a hover-craft package, called Lift-a-Cohen (or, Coney–on-the-Spot) so that they can float over Aaron’s spots.”

Back in April I did a little bit of reminiscing about one of my Grandpas. At that time, I promised an open session for Grandpa reminiscing.

It is understood that Grandpas are or were not perfect, but each one is a story. A better story than those of parents, because the grandparent stories reach further into the past.

Sometimes I feel like I am an unsettled, unhomogenized mix of both of my Grandpas.

For example, my other Grandpa was the opposite of the warm, fun-loving one I posted about. This guy was a stern, dignified, laconic, unsociable, never smiling, morally-rigid GP and cardiologist who made house calls into his 80s. He totalled his car making a house call on one Christmas night in a blizzard. Cops took him to his house call with his big black leather bag, then back home, where he arrived bloodied but unbowed. 

He worked 7 days/wk. Had zero tolerance for foolishness of any sort, and the only times I ever saw a smile was when he was holding a baby. He was not about "fun," and was a serious man who took life seriously. He had a dry Milton or Shakespeare quote for any occasion, and he liked a Scotch or two in the evening, neat. Smoked corn-cob pipes at work and at home. (It is only recently that one could not smoke in hospitals.)  Osler was his hero, and he had nothing but contempt for FDR and Lyndon Johnson.

When he opened his medical practice, the scourges in CT were malaria, syphilis, puerperal fever, and TB and other infectious diseases - plus all the diseases we still have. Few people were "healthy," as we view it, in the 1920s and 30s: just imagine everybody today with a new hip or knee hobbling around painfully on canes, or stuck in chairs, or everybody today with a bypass or stent or heart meds, bedridden and slowly dying of heart failure. Not to mention untreatable Depression.

He grew up on a farm in northern CT in a hamlet named after his (and my) family name. Worked his way through college and medical school (in Baltimore), mostly as a cook during the summers at lumber camps in Maine and NH. (I never saw him even boil an egg - he always had a cook in the house. My Dad tells me that he did know how to cook pancakes.)

His first wife died of leukemia before she could have kids. He had been her doctor. He did not remarry until his 40s. Both of my grandpas lost young wives to illness. It wasn't rare at all, two generations ago.

Like most docs of the past, he was not much of a vacation-taker until his later 60s, but was known to enjoy fly fishing at his favorite getaway spot, Mohonk. He also liked the old resort hotels in Watch Hill, where he met his second wife. She was a summer hotel waitress there, but her main job was as a Brooklyn grammar school teacher, teaching new Jewish and Italian immigrant kids. Her parents were a farm family in Norwalk, CT., and I have no idea why or how she ended up in Brooklyn. She once told me she had to check the kids for lice daily.

Her Mom lived with them until she died aged 107. She had been a nurse while being a farm wife too. She did jigsaw puzzles, and looked like an Indian (she had plenty of Indian blood, I am told, but was not happy about that, I suspect).

Grandpa's garage shelves were piled with hearts and brains and kidneys in jars with formaldehyde or alcohol or whatever. Cool for a kid. As I recall, my Dad burned them - along with all of his old wooden file cabinets of medical records, when the old guy died at 86 or 87.

This is him at my aunt's wedding. My Dad's sister was a beauty and a Physical Therapist for the Army until she had kids, but she is now gone too:

His patients loved him but eventually he outlived most of them. Many paid him with farm produce, and the poor paid him with labor at his house - chopping wood, painting, cleaning up the grounds, etc. I remember stopping by and seeing a bushel basket of fresh-dug potatoes left on the back porch, and a basket of sweet corn another time. He had a good-sized vegetable garden down in the back, which he tended himself. Lots of wax beans, as I recall. I do like them too.

He had the first EKG machine in CT. We still have that German machine in its splendid mahogany case. It still works. I need to take a photo of it when I remember. I think my Dad intends to donate it to the Yale Medical School museum.

I'll welcome more Grandpa thumbnail sketches in the comments.

We, and others, have often felt that one of the best uses of the internet is to disseminate local - very local - news. Local newsletters/online newspapers will never win millions of daily viewers, but if they can pick up some local ads (and if the area has broadband), it's a better biz model nowadays than the dying dead tree format.

Our pal Greg Sullivan has just begun publishing The Rumford Meteor. Pretty slick for a small town rag, and a good model for what can be done.

Among other things, he posted this video of Maine clam diggers:

Thomas Jones, Naples. The Capella Nuova outside the Porta di Chiaja, 1778:

Dalrymple discusses Thomas Jones and the non-essential consumption economy: The Machine. Almost a miracle, isn't it, that we no longer have a predominantly essential-consumption society? 

An email with pics from our friend and occasional guest-poster Nathan, who is living in Jerusalem:

After watching Verdi's Nabuco performed at night at the foot of Matzada, I planned my ascent on Saturday.

Up at 415 a.m. and cabbed to Matzada from Ein Gedi Kibbutz facing the Dead Sea, two kilometers below sea level. Hiked up the 350 Meters during sunrise. First one up. Took the "snake path" on the east face of the mountain fortress built about thirty years before Christ by Herod, the son of Edomite Converts to Judaism, who was King under the Romans and fairly much despised by the Jews, even as he prevailed over some thirty years of stunnning prosperity and --- trained as an engineer/architect -- proliferative building including the entire port of Cesaria (named after Cesar), which included a hippodrome and perhaps more importantly a major port for the Romans.

The snake path

The history here is ironic and as twisty as the Snake Path, which was built by Herod so that supplies, including water from Ein Gedi oasis about 17 km north, could be brought up by donkeys. There is a western ramp built by Jewish slaves under the Romans to defeat the Jewish Sicari in 73 AD, but that in a moment.

The remarkable stillness (beyond quiet) on the 45 minute hike up gives time for reflection and occassional glances to sight the hints of sun's birth over the Dead Sea, even as the crescent moon and a star-like planet linger in the South East.

Sunrise over the Dead Sea

Herod built this fortress, designed by himself after his architects and engineers said that it could not be done. Built it to protect himself with the sheers on all sides. Protect himself from his Jews. Having been driven once from Jerusalem by angry Jews (a tough crowd to rule over, it seems), he decided he needed a few refuges to which to escape in the future. Built Herodian just south of Jerusalem, but Matzada was his star. Quarried in place, he imported the two-piece capitals for the columns. The quarries apparently became used for water storage. But, Josephus (the Jewish general turncoat who became a chronicler for the Romans) describes massive storehouses filled with wine amphoras (Greek for any container that can be lift from either side) for wine and olive oil, and supplies of corn, dates, pulse and other preserved foodstuffs, which Josephus said could supply the garrison for years.  There are remaining frescos (apparently the artisans were familiar with Vitruvius multi-volume work on architecture) and elegant mosaic floors in place. The castle was built on three levels at the northern tip of the plateau, on three natural ledges.  The castle faces towards the oasis of Ein Gedi, where David once took refuge from King Saul, who was jealous of DAvid's achievements. But that is another tale.

Below as one reaches the top, the Dead Sea has a heaviness to it, as if made of  molten lead.  Light appears before the Sun, which arises with its shifting colors until it attains that blinding glare of the Desert.

After Herod's death, the Jewish rebellion began against Rome: the Jews even minted their own shekels, labeling them for each year of the rebellion: one can eye these up to the fifth year in the new Museum at the end of the visit.

Jerusalem fell. (The Romans complained that there was so much blood from slaughtering Jews in the Old City that Roman horses had to wade through lakes of blood to their bellies.)  A group of some seventy Sicari Jews (very fierce and named for the Sicar, double-edged curved knives) retreated to Matzada, which became the last refuge and last place defeated by the Romans. Coming out here, at the edge of a dead lake of salt, two kilometers below the world of sea level, surrounded by pastel-hued mountains which themselves once were ocean bottom, on the edge of the Syrian-African rift, one is impressed, amazed at the extent to which the Romans went to defeat this last 70-citizen outpost of the Jews.

They set a siege that lasted several years, the Romans building some eight permanent camps, the largest of which had a Cardo, the central commercial street of every major Roman town.  The Sicari settled into the opulent palace and buildings of Herod, leaving evidence of their pottery, which measure poorly when compared to the simple, but elegant Edom-tinted, reddish pottery made for Herod (and each labelled by its artisan).  The Jews wrote notes on pottery shards to use for dealing out each families portioin and so on.

Surrounding landscape

The Romans, as I said, used Jewish slaves to build the assault ramp. At first the Romans built, but the Sicari would dump scalding oil on the Roman laborers, so Jewish slaves were enlisted to solve that problem. To taunt and demoralize the Roman soldiers, whose water was carefully met out, the Jewish women would hang out their clothes to dry, as if to show that they had plenty of water in the underground cisterns (which are massive as one walks into them.)

The end of this story came quickly when it came. The Romans, upon completing the ramp, pushed a ram to the top to batter the wall. The Jews tried to reinforce with stone and dirt. I believe that at this point the Jewish set the ram afire, but winds blew this towards the wall and burned through what was not made of stone. 

The rest we know from Josephus, a very literate turncoat, who in turn learned of the last moments of the Sicari from two surviving mothers and their five children who had hidden within the double-walled storage area so as not to be "suicided" by the Sicari.  Ben ari, the leader of the Sicari Jews gave a speech, stating that their women would not be violated by Romans, nor their children ever taste slavery. They set all the stores afire to defeat the Romans in death. After the ten men killed the others, they had lots with their names written upon them. The leader cut the throats of the remaining nine, then his own.   These lots -- with the names legible -- were found by Yigal Yadin in the 1960's excavation.

Ruins of Herod's castle

Matzada was mostly forgotten. Briefly used by some monks, then forgotten again. In the late 50's a Jewish archeologist, Shmarayu Guttman suggested excavation. but, not until 1963 did former General Yigal Yadin do the excavations as a Professor at the Hebrew U. Just a brief tale from Yadin. By reading Josephus (you know the reversible-coat part here already), Yadin was determined to find the castle on the northern lip. But, from above, it looked like nothing was there and colleagues doubted that anything could have been built on such a sheer, surfaced with shards and rubble.  But Yadin tied a rope to a rock at the top, rappeled down with a brush and hand tool, and discovered the castle. When they got to the lowest level, the third terrace, they found the skeleton of a Roman soldier -- armor intact -- lying near a woman's skeleton, her hair braids intact.

That's the news from Matzada.

So far, 54 theaters around the country have signed up to show "The Lottery", and more are signing up daily. Take a moment to see if "The Lottery" is playing in a theater near you and buy tickets by clicking http://www.screenvision.com/s/showing/TheLottery/.

The Lottery" will be playing for some single showings and week-long runs: In New York for one night, June 3, a free showing at the Apollo Theater followed by a reception, 253 W 125th St., in New York from June 11-18 at the Big Theater, 239 East 59th Street (near 2nd Avenue). In Los Angeles from June 18-25 at Laemmle's Music Hall 3, 9036 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills. Additional runs in Denver and other cities are being planned.

Recent reviews:

An already heated national debate over charter schools gets a few degrees hotter tonight with the premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival of "The Lottery," a powerful documentary about the Harlem Success Academy charters launched by former City Councilwoman Eva Moskowitz. The film is designed to knock ambivalent people off the fence when it comes to the benefits of charter schools, and it does. In the same way that "An Inconvenient Truth" mobilized a vast constituency to take action on climate change, "The Lottery" will create and energize charter supporters by the thousands.
-   New York Daily News


For this lottery, the stakes couldn't be higher. The nerve-racking bid by parents to land their 5-year-old kid a coveted seat in a high-performing Harlem charter school is detailed in a documentary set to screen tomorrow at the Tribeca Film Festival.
-   New York Post